Fascinated with the physics of pop construction, The Blow makes music that holds a weightless gravity. Their songs are light enough to sail easily through the air, landing simultaneously on the turntable of a London DJ, in your mum's car stereo, and in the iPod of a middle schooler in study hall. However, they are somehow heavy enough to stick around, laying in your mind long after their new album, Paper Television, is over.

The strength of The Blow**** is built through juxtaposition. Jona's percussive savvy bumps and trips under Khaela's intimate, insistent vocals. No-wave and glitch-hop, club anthems and doo-wop, all party together in the architecture created by The Blow's sound. Imagine a see-thru space station, floating in the dark, culling out via radio the most delicious flavors of planet earth's pop music production (the Pharells, the Phil Spectors, the Quincy Joneses). In the hovering structure of Paper Television, these sounds bounce around and mingle, try new moves and brave courageous hairstyles, ultimately getting infused (knocked up) with The Blow's vital lyrical content. Packed softly into hearty and buoyant vessels of songs, the words and beats are sent back out into the unknown, a transmission from the humans, for the humans, intended to spell out clearly in the night sky to all who come across them: "H-E-L-L-O! YOU ARE NOT ALONE: WE ARE HERE, AND WE ARE LISTENING."